


in the light of day

by Pomfry



Series: Jondami Week 2018 [7]
Category: Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Angels are terrifying, Damian falls in love with an angel and doesn't regret it, Jon is an Angel, Loneliness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 14:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13719972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry
Summary: He's been followed by an angel made of fire his whole life, long limbs that go on forever, an unnaturally long neck, claws on its hands.Always, always, a sword it in its hand.Always, always, it grins at him with sharp teeth when he manages to choose for himself. Always, always, it does not speak.





	in the light of day

**Author's Note:**

> I made this up in Math class thursday.
> 
> Also I'm not particularly religious despite my grandfather's best efforts. I just read somewhere that angels are fucking terrifying and I rolled with it.

Angels are warriors. They bear swords and arrows and they go into battle, ready to shed blood. Damian doesn't know how the stereotype of them being cute and harmless came about but -

He's been followed by an angel made of fire his whole life, long limbs that go on forever, an unnaturally long neck, claws on its hands.

Always, always, a sword it in its hand.

Always, always, it grins at him with sharp teeth when he manages to choose for himself. Always, always, it does not speak.

It's only when he's in Gotham, sitting in his room, does he dare ask.

“What's your name?”

A sad smile, a quick brush of hands over his hair that's as hot as flame is his only answer.

“Can you not speak?”

A nod. It points towards his ears and then curls its fingers over them as though to protect them.

“I cannot hear you without causing myself pain?”

The angel claps its hands, teeth white hot as it grins. Damian frowns, reaching out. It dances out of his reach, winds dragging behind it. It shakes his finger at him, as though he's a naughty child. It's the same response as it's ever been, but -

“Can you take a form where I can touch you,” he asks, hardly daring to hope. This angel has been his constant companion for ten years now, a comforting presence at his side. It was with him during his Year of Blood, and its sad trills next to him nearly made him stop. He wants -

He wants to know it. Truly know it.

It shakes his head again, the stops, hesitating. Lips turning down, it holds up a hand and makes a so-so gesture.

“You can?”

It grimaces, but nods.

“Does it hurt? Would you get into trouble?”

It holds up one finger, then shakes its head no. A second finger and it shakes its head yes.

Damian sighs, leaning back. “I just,” he starts, frustrated, and it smiles at him apologetically. “It's not your fault.”

It shrugs.

“Is there anything you can do?”

It looks up then taps its thin wrist. “There's going to be a certain time,” he guesses and it laughs delightedly, silently. He smiles. “So I just have to have patience?”

A firm nod.

Damian stretches his arms above his head, back cracking. “I can wait,” he says easily. “For you, I'll wait.”

It smiles, the sword hanging from its waist, blade catching the light, and Damian's breath catches.

Angels are supposed to be beautiful, he knows. The true appearance isn't considered beautiful by normal standards, but Damian's been raised by his mother. The al Ghul's revel in the odd, in the strange. They find beauty in the things considered horrifying, terrifying, and cling to them with strength beyond a human soul should possess, laughing in the face of caution. Mother fell in love with Father when he was Batman, not Bruce Wayne. Batman was a myth, a creature of legend. He was said to be hideous, to be so frightening the light shied away. Mother had fallen in love with him when she only knew the Batman.

Damian is an al Ghul, and he is certainly not any different. His angel is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and he wants to hold it forever, kiss it's lips and burn.

Angels are supposed to be gentle.

Damian is glad his isn't.

 

\--

 

It starts when his angel disappears.

Damian blinks open his eyes, expecting the small chuff next to his ear and an explosion of heat that counts as his angels good morning.

What he gets is an ache in his soul and no one beside him.

Damian shoots up, heart in his throat. His angel had never,  _ never _ left him. It's always been by his side, always a companion. He's never - been alone. His angel has always been with him. Even in hell during his year of blood, with it sitting sadly behind him, he was never  _ alone. _

He is now. He's so terribly alone and the loneliness is horrible. It's painful and he thinks that he understands, now, why Dick seeks out physical comfort so often.

The loneliness is crushing. It takes him ten minutes to even think about getting out of bed, let alone doing it. In the end, Dick drags him out of his room and even still - among his family, he misses the fiery presence at his side.

He misses his angel.

Five more months of this suffocating loneliness, this sense of being alone even among a crowd and Damian is ready to just fucking  _ end it, _ damn the consequences, damn the fact that his angel might show up again.

There's a hole in his chest, in his heart, and he doesn't think it will go away.

Until -

Until a boy three years younger than him shows up at his door, his teeth white as fire, his eyes blue as flame, and collapses in his arms.

For the first time in almost half a year, Damian is - complete.

Then he realizes that his angel, his beautiful angel with long limbs and dagger teeth, is trembling, gasping in pain, and Damian drags him inside, nearly in a panic.

“Pennyworth,” he bellows, cradling his angel close to his chest. Their hearts beat as one, he notices, and rests a hand on the back of his angels head, taking in a shuddering breath and fighting tears.

His angel is back. He's back and Damian can touch him, can kiss him, and it's something he never dreamed of being able to do, but now he  _ can. _ He can and he clings to his angel with everything he has even as Alfred appears before him, faintly alarmed.

“Master Damian -”

“No time,” Damian interrupts desperately, running past him and into the cave. “He needs medical attention.”

Alfred hurries after him, blinking a hit in surprise when Damian rests his forehead on his angels, eyes closed and pleading with him to  _ stay with me, please, you left for so long, you can't leave me again,  _ **_please._ **

He can't go through that again.

“Master Damian,” Alfred says mildly, pulling on some latex gloves, “I can't help him if you don't move.

Damian scrambles back, eyes locked on his angels face as Alfred carefully does analysis. He needs to be alright. He needs to be able to heal because -

He can't go through that again. He'll slit his throat before he has to suffer that loneliness again.

His angel coughs and Alfred tilts him on his side, rubbing his back as he coughs up what looks like half a lung. His brilliant blue eyes open, nearly glowing, and he looks Damian in the eyes.

“Damian,” he breathes, and it sounds like he's never spoken but it's the most gorgeous thing Damian's heard.

“Angel,” he returns, drifting closer and resting a hand on his cheek. It's hot, like he's always been, but it has the smoothness of a boy. “Is this what you've been doing?”

“Yes,” his angel says, the word stilted. “Jon. Name Jon.”

Damian's heart lifts and he smiles softly, giddily, because his angel gave him his name. Names have power, Damian knows. There's a reason he wants to be known as Wayne, not al Ghul. And his angel gave him his name  _ willingly. _

“Jon is it is,” he says gently, watching as Jon's face lights up with simple joy. He leans down, simply breathing in time with his angel, his one companion.

Jon reaches up to grab his wrist weakly. “Miss-ed you,” he says, and Damian laughs, feeling ready to cry.

“I missed you too,” he says helplessly, and nothing he has ever said has been more true. “I missed you too. These days have been horrible without you.”

Jon laughs, then, hoarse and unused to it but so very happy, and Damian couldn't stop himself from kissing him if he  _ tried. _

Jon's lips are soft and pliant and they're both unused to kissing, but they don't care. How can they?

It's messy and so very inexperienced and so  _ perfect. _

When Damian pulls back, his angel looks - content. “Love you,” Jon tells him, as serious as he's always been, and Damian giggles.

“I love you too,” he replies, and he's been saying so many truths today, but - “I always have.”

Jon smiles at that, his eyes glowing, and Damian -

Damian only kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always loved and brighten up my day and are saved in my Gmail.
> 
> Also! Here's my [Tumblr.](http://nikescaret.tumblr.com) Come visit and chat with me if you want!


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